


Immortalized Soul

by Beatles_and_Bellarke



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-21 15:15:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20695637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beatles_and_Bellarke/pseuds/Beatles_and_Bellarke
Summary: Richie Tozier knew he was gay that summer.  He didn't know how to say it and that left a hole only he could fill.





	Immortalized Soul

**Author's Note:**

> I just got back from chapter 2 and honestly WHAT THE HECK???
> 
> So anyway here have this feelstrip.

Richie Tozier knew he was gay. He didn’t have that word in his head exactly because the word itself was a dirty word, a rotten word. It was something Henry Bowers spit at him in the hallways of school or that his loving parents talked about in front of him in relation to the AIDS crisis. 

He knew it wasn’t a good thing to be. But these stirrings wouldn’t leave. Anytime he and the others would go down to the Barrens or meet in the clubhouse, the feelings appeared. The butterflies he’d forced himself to subdue were in full force whenever Eddie Kaspbrak so much as smiled in his direction. It pissed Richie off. He shouldn’t feel this way. Not for Eds. For Beverly maybe, or any of the other girls at the school. But not Eddie. And yet they were there. 

Street Fighter. His one escape from the hellscape that was his mind. Day after day Richie lost himself in the game. He practiced at the Arcade routinely. No one had to ask where Richie Tozier was. The answer was the same. That day began as any other. It began at the Arcade. 

Another kid had sauntered in to take his place beside Richie at the Street Fighter booth. The boy was handsome, Richie supposed. But his demeanor was intimidating. Richie found he couldn’t take his eyes off the kid. 

“Hey, you’re that Tozier kid right?” Richie froze wondering how this kid knew his name. Was it the Clown? Was he here in a different form ready to bring Richie down? It took Richie a moment to process that the boy had continued speaking, “-plays Street Fighter all the time?” Richie took a moment to get back to reality. 

“Oh, yeah.” Richie nodded, then more confidently: “yep, I’m the best one there is!” 

“We’ll see about that.” The boy’s smirk was just enough to make Richie’s heart skip a beat. They stood a little too close as they played. Hands brushed, shoulders bumped. By the time the game ended, the room was already several degrees too warm for Richie’s flannel. He couldn’t tell if that was his body temperature or the summer.

“I gotta go. But you’re really good.” The boy smiled, sliding his middle finger under Richie’s palm in solidarity. They understood each other. 

“Wait!” Richie was desperate. In so many ways. He was desperate to continue getting to know this kid, interested in a friendship that could  _ actually  _ go somewhere. But most of all he needed to forget his feelings for his best friend. He didn’t want to remember Eddie in that moment. It was this which drove what he said next, “just one more time.”

“If you want to.” He faltered. An underlying fear still stung his thoughts. What if this boy wasn’t into him like that? What if it was miscommunication? What if? 

A different voice suddenly entered Richie’s consciousness. It was the same kid but the tone had changed completely. 

“I’m not your fucking boyfriend.” Everything else had been filtered through the haze as Henry Bowers entered the Arcade with his pack of cronies. But this phrase stuck in Richie’s memory for its sheer power. He turned to the speaker, Bowers’ cousin, and immediately began denying this claim. 

“Are you trying to bone my cousin?” 

“No, of course not. I don’t think of him that way.” Was all Richie could manage as he raced out of the Arcade. He heard a slur used but didn’t turn around. Tears streamed down his face as the heaviness of the accusation struck him. 

Of course he  _ had _ thought of the boy that way. He wanted to hold his hand while they played, to kiss him just like Ben or Bill wanted to kiss Beverly. There was an ache he couldn’t relieve so he sat on the bench and cried. 

The boy wasn’t the one Richie was actually interested in. He was merely the person available. Richie was on autopilot as he went to the bridge where the local couples carved their initials into the wood. Here, the young love of Derry could be immortalized for all to see. But there was an air of anonymity as well. No one knew who the initials were except those who carved them. 

Richie pulled out his knife. His brain worked fast and his hands stealthily. He carved the initials he knew. The two that made the most sense. 

_ R + E _


End file.
